The Sowing

The infrared goggles I spied earlier have come online and I can make out the personnel scrambling to perform their duties in the hangar.

In one corner of the screen, superimposed over this image, are four thumbnail video feeds showing Cage, Crowley, Boaz, and Drusilla. They each appear to be barely clad, the guys bare-chested and in briefs, Drusilla in a tank top and shorts. All of them are standing on the bank of a dark body of water, just like the one the Bio-Pods are dangling over.

In the other corner of the screen is a display of readouts, with each Incentive’s name listed. Next to each name is data listed under the headings Oxygen Levels and BPM.

Right now, everyone’s O₂ reading is exactly the same: one hundred percent. The heartbeat readings are another matter. Mine seems to be holding steady at ninety-five beats per minute. Higher than normal, but not too bad.

I study the oxygen readouts once again. If they’re keeping track of how much air we have in these prisons, it must mean we’re going to start losing it during the course of this Trial. As the implications sink in, the blip on the screen next to my name increases its pace.

Ninety-eight BPMs.

One-hundred and two BPMs.

Welcome Recruits to your next Trial!

Cassius’s hateful voice startles me in my cramped confines. Cage and the others stand at attention as Cassius continues.

In this Trial, each Recruit will be required to dive into the sea and retrieve the Bio-Pods containing each of their Incentives, which have been marked accordingly.

While the instructions are being relayed, I can feel my Bio-Pod vibrating as the pulleys overhead begin lowering it into the ocean. The bobbing hangar bay I saw before begins to pull away. My stomach churns. The lower half of my goggle screen fills with bubbles, then darkness that quickly devours the remaining light.

Then the black sea is all around me, gulping down my body, which rocks with sickening turbulence as I plummet into the depths.

This is a race. Each Bio-Pod has been equipped with a limited amount of oxygen. You must retrieve both of your Incentives before their oxygen levels become depleted…

My Bio-Pod tumbles end over end, spinning me upside down, right side up. I fight the urge to puke, concerned that if I do I’ll just choke on it in this watery prison.

Choose the order of your retrieval carefully, Cassius continues. Whichever Incentive remains submerged when their oxygen runs out shall be the losing Recruit’s de facto choice to be shelved. If more than one Recruit is unable to retrieve both Incentives, that Recruit will also be considered to have failed, making a choice as well.

With a thud, my Bio-Pod strikes the ocean floor. I’m resting at an angle, but at least I’m not upside down.

Onscreen, the Recruits stand at the water’s edge, bodies arced, waiting to receive the signal.

Be cautious. The sea is filled with all manner of natural obstacles. Good Luck. Begin!

The four Recruits plunge into the water.

My eyes dart to the oxygen levels, which have all already dipped to ninety-nine percent. In the murky depths, I can make out the ghosts of some of the other pods, swaying like restless sleepers in the current, but I can’t tell who’s who.

A shadow falls across my shell. Something jostles my Bio-Pod, shifting its angle. Every muscle locks.

A hand appears at the faceplate of my pod, smearing the dark glass. I recognize Cage’s face. His eyes are pools of desperation and fear as they dart back and forth, not a hint of recognition nesting in them.

He drifts from view. I glance at his monitor, which shows him hovering over the Bio-Pod next to mine, repeating the same frantic ritual.

Then it hits me. While we can track the Recruits via the feeds from the cameras attached to the surface of the suits, they can’t see us. Whatever choice each Recruit’s making as to who to rescue first is purely guesswork.

My eyes flick to my vitals readout. Oxygen level: eighty-two percent.

Cage grabs Tristin’s pod, and then mine, attempting to swim with both of us to the surface. My pod sways and bounces, then stops. Cage’s face looks like he’s straining, the veins in his forehead pulsating, his cheeks bulging. He’s running out of air.